Paganistan: Notes from the Secret Commonwealth
In Which One Midwest Man-in-Black Confers, Converses & Otherwise Hob-Nobs with his Fellow Hob-Men (& -Women) Concerning the Sundry Ways of the Famed but Ill-Starred Tribe of Witches.
What Do You Do With an Old Idol?
It's a terrible dilemma.
These holy images body forth Those that we love and honor.
And the Breakers are coming: those who hate and fear the beauty that we love.
So what do you do?
The archaeological record makes it clear. Time and again the old pagans chose to lay their holy images in the womb of all-protecting Earth.
Hoping, perhaps, as they did so that a time might come when the power of the breakers would itself be broken.
Hoping that some day, once again, as of old, the Mother of Gods would bring forth.
(And indeed, in our own day we still do the same. When an image is no longer fit for use, or the worship cannot be maintained, still, in the same old hope, it is proper to lay it in the Earth.)
Old pagans, our mothers and fathers, your hope was not in vain.
In our day, we rise and remember you.
Guide our steps, we pray you. Direct us when we err. Teach us again to honor the Beauty that sustained you.
For we are truly your children, and we crave your parenting wisdom.
In this season of the ancestors, we ask it.
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